


Tea and Toast

by the10amongstthese3s



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anne is a fragile baby sometimes, Aragon is a protective mama bear, Cleves will happily fight a grown ass man, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Minor Angst, One Shot, Referenced past character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the10amongstthese3s/pseuds/the10amongstthese3s
Summary: After a rough interview on a double show day leaves the Queens' emotionally and physically exhausted, the group decides to have some family time. After all, what better to heal a broken heart than Disney movies and blankets?
Comments: 21
Kudos: 185





	Tea and Toast

Double show days could be tiring. Double show days combined with interviews though? Those were outright exhausting.

Though it drained the queens, the group carried on with their schedule, powering through interview after interview, day after day. Of course, people wanted to hear more from the reincarnated Tudor Queens; that was only logical. They couldn’t be mad at the fans and the historians who wished to learn more about them. So instead, they suffered in silence, day in, day out.

Sometimes, just sometimes, the exhausted queens would show signs of weakness. One of them would opt out of meeting fans at stage door, another would skip rehearsals altogether after oversleeping. 

God knows they needed the rest.

Nine 75 minute shows a week that consisted of pure cardio was enough to break any regular woman. Having to spend those shows reliving their traumatic stories grew even more exhausting than the dancing some nights. It was difficult but not impossible to spot those nights for an outsider, only peering through the curtains. Maybe Jane would take an extra minute to recover from the sobs at the end of her song. Perhaps Anne would miss a snarky little quip or two. Sometimes, even Aragon would misstep in the small dance break of her song, almost losing her balance. 

If anybody noticed though, nobody made mention of it. The other queens all knew the truth, even if they didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear of somehow speaking it to life. 

They were dead tired.

It was after their matinee show one Sunday afternoon that the women all filed onto the stage to meet with an interviewer. Kit immediately tensed upon seeing the man, clinging nervously to Jane’s arm. Something about him unsettled her, though she wasn’t sure what. Feeling Jane gently squeeze her hand, Kit calmed down slightly, thankful when Parr sat on her other side and gave her a reassuring smile.

The man seemed polite enough. If his grey hair and the wrinkles around his eyes were anything to go by, he was in his late fifties, or early sixties. He wore beige slacks, with a white shirt, and a dull, brown sweater vest.

Just a generic old man, Kit reassured herself. Nothing out of the ordinary. No real threat. Especially not with the others there to protect her.

“Hello, there. My name is Henry Lister. I’m happy to finally make your acquaintance,” the man smiled, holding out a hand to Aragon. Kit immediately winced at the name, pressing herself closely into Jane’s side. She knew that name all too well and the hurt it could bring.

Wrapping her arm around the clearly-nervous teenager, Jane couldn’t help but cringe as she watched the man take Aragon’s hand, and press a sloppy looking kiss to her knuckles.

After a small explanation about the man’s journalism and the interview at hand, Henry began to ask questions. They were innocent enough at first. Questions they’d been asked a thousand times over. What was it like to be married to the king? How did you adapt to life in the 21st century? What is the aim of the show?

Everything was going relatively well until the man turned to Cleves. 

“Miss Anna of Cleves, you were remembered for something quite out of the ordinary, weren’t you? Can you explain to us how you felt learning that you were remembered for your looks? Or dare I say, lack thereof.”

The man gave a small chuckle at this. 

The queens did not.

“Excuse me?” Cleves growled through gritted teeth. The only thing keeping her from charging at the man was Aragon’s hand placed firmly on her shoulder, holding her in place, keeping her grounded. 

“I’d appreciate if you kept vanity out of this interview, Mr Lister,” Aragon hissed in a warning tone.

Suddenly, the man seemed to recognise his mistake, looking back to his notes with his tail between his legs. 

“Right, let’s move on, shall we?”

A few more of the usual, generic questions came once again, making the women settle back down. That is until he began to once again focus in on another queen, singling out one of the six, yet again. This time, Anne Boleyn was his target. 

“Miss Boleyn, you gave birth to a woman known as the greatest monarch this country ever saw,” he started. Anne gave a proud nod at this, grinning at the memory of the fiery-haired toddler once attached to her by the hip. “How does it feel knowing that your little girl - the two-year-old you left behind - made it to seventy and passed away, whilst you’re still a mere twenty two? I imagine that must be extremely hard to comprehend.”

Instantly, Anne’s smile fell, her eyes wide in horror. “I… I didn’t leave her,” was all she could stammer as her eyes filled with tears. 

For some reason, the demon of a man took this as fuel, opting to continue his questioning. “Do you think she thought the same? I wonder whether a toddler would understand such a thing as death,” he asked, eyes focused on Anne.

Suddenly, the girl couldn’t breathe. No matter how hard she tried, her lungs refused to obey her. Instinctively, Anne reached to her side, gripping painfully tight onto Aragon’s thigh to try ground herself. 

It didn’t work.

“Hey, hey, look at me, Annie,” Aragon said in a concerned tone, making Anne look up through bleary eyes. “Good girl. Keep your eyes on me, mija,” Aragon hushed her, giving a soft smile as she carefully swept the stray hairs out of the girl’s face. It had been a long time since she’d been so openly affectionate towards the chaotic second queen. Now more than ever though, she knew Anne needed her comfort.

Keeping her focus on Aragon, Anne faintly heard the sound of Parr and Cleves scolding the interviewer as she was coached through familiar breathing exercises she faintly recognised from Kit’s panic attacks. 

Was that what this was? A panic attack? 

Whatever it was, Anne didn’t like it. She barely registered what was happening as Cleves carried her through to the dressing rooms and laid her down in a pile of blankets on the ground. She didn’t even react as Aragon stroked her back, singing a calm Spanish lullaby she remembered from their past lives.

Needless to say, Anne didn’t perform in the evening show that night. Thankfully, one swing was available to take her place, a tech swing promising to stay by her side whilst she slept, just in case she woke, to ease the queens’ minds. 

The drive home that night was quiet.

Nobody said a word.

What was there to say? They couldn’t scream about the interviewer or about the constant stress they felt. No, silence was the best option. So, with a familiar tune playing softly over the radio, Anne let her head rest on the window, staring at the passing trees as they drove. 

Oh, how lucky the trees were, Anne thought. No stress, no heartbreak, no pain. All they saw was sunlight, wind, and a little bit of rain.

As much as she wanted to hide away in her room for the rest of the night, something inside of Anne urged her to stay with the queens. Maybe it was the fearful look on Kit’s face that reminded her so much of her Elizabeth or the way Parr walked with her, holding a protective arm around her waist, but Anne knew she had to keep her family close.

So she did.

Cleves was about to excuse herself when Anne pushed her and Aragon onto a couch with no explanation, before dragging Kit and Parr to another. The confused stares made Anne’s confidence wobble for a moment, but she couldn’t give up now.

“We… We should watch a movie,” Anne suggested, her voice still hoarse from crying.

Oh.

A silent realisation set in between the queens' as they all understood the true meaning behind Anne’s words. She didn’t want to be alone.

Like robots, the women all jumped up with their own little task in mind. Cleves grabbed a pile of DVDs, sorting through the disks with a look of concentration plastered on her face. Aragon rushed upstairs to find blankets, returning with a huge pile. Kit grabbed teddy bears for everyone to cuddle, explaining that they “might get lonely or scared” without them. Really, they knew it was just an excuse to make her feel less embarrassed for cradling the stuffed bunny Anne had bought her, but nobody complained.

It was a few minutes later when Jane emerged from her bedroom with two shopping bags and a grin on her face.

“I was saving these for our holiday but…” Jane beamed as she handed out the items. 

Something soft. Clothes? Matching pyjamas! 

Soon enough, the group was wrapped up in their new pyjamas under piles of blankets, all cuddled up on the couches with teddy bears in their laps. They watched Monsters Inc first, then The Little Mermaid and, soon enough, the clock struck one.

As if in perfect time with the second movie ending, Kit’s tummy gave a monstrous groan, as if demanding to be fed. Was it a threat or a warning? Either way, she needed food.

With the sound, came an idea in Jane’s mind. A lightbulb pinging to life inside her head with a hopeful radiance.

Giving a grin, the motherly woman jumped up and headed to the kitchen, telling the girls to turn on another movie without her. Her disappearance was slightly odd, but nobody seemed too worried, all just figuring the woman needed some space alone after the stressful day.

It wasn’t until they were called into the kitchen that the queens’ registered what the sweet smell in the air was.

Pancakes.

The table was filled with cereal boxes, cups of tea, bowls of fruit, and other various breakfast items. That included a huge stack of pancakes that stood in the middle, as if on display.

“Breakfast for dinner! I saw it in a movie once,” Jane announced with a smile in response to the queens’ awe-filled expressions. “It’s happy food, and I think we could use some of that right now.”

That was certainly true. 

That’s how, at 1:30am on a Monday morning, the former queen consorts found themselves gathered around the kitchen table in matching pyjamas, giggling over an assortment of breakfast foods as the faint sounds of Frozen echoed through the wall from the living room.

Being a Tudor Queen in the 21st century may be an exhausting job, but that doesn’t mean it’s all doom and gloom. Sometimes Disney movies and pancakes are just enough to cut through the darkness with a shimmering glow, illuminating the winding path to happiness.

They’d reach their destination eventually, the queens’ knew; side by side, no matter what detours may show up along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💚 I wasn't planning to post tonight but I found this half-written and abandoned in my drafts folder and wanted to finish it up! I hope it's okay. (I think of the Anne I portray of being rather young compared to her real-life counterpart. Hence her being 22 here) 🦆 
> 
> If you had a bad day then remember, it's just a bump in the road. Keep traveling.


End file.
